Of Absolute Value
by Kara Wild
Summary: Quinn's math teacher tells Jake that she has a gift, so Jake vows to help Quinn excel. Written October 1999


"Daria" is owned and copyrighted by MTV. All rights reserved. This is **not** an episode, but the best imitation of an episode that I could write. Thanks to the creators of "Daria" for providing so much rich material for fanfics.... 

This is the tenth episode of The Driven Wild Universe. It follows

  1. "Rose-Colored Lenses," 
  2. "The Tie That Chokes," 
  3. "That Thing You Say," 
  4. "'Shipped Out," 
  5. "Andrea Speaks!", 
  6. "Cheered Down," 
  7. "None in the Family, Part One," 
  8. "None in the Family, Part Two," and 
  9. "Outvoted."

I've been channeling Peter Guerin as of late. The title of my last fanfic sounded like one of his (_"Outvoted"/ "Outbitched"_), and **both** were about Sandi. And the title of this fic shortens to O.A.V. Coincidence?? ;-)

I give this one a..... **tah-dah** 1.5S! I never thought I'd see one of those again...

So be happy you'll have less eyestrain this time around, and enjoy!!

**Ten Spot Promo:** The one where those official guys are having a stare-down with the female spy. They try to tape record her, but she refuses to talk...

[intro theme music...................]

# OF ABSOLUTE VALUE

_by_

## Kara Wild

* * *

**ACT ONE**

SCENE 1 (_Quinn's room, Morgendorffer house, evening_)

(_Shot of the outside. We hear Quinn's voice-over: _)

**QUINN:** (_on the phone. fawning_) Oh of **course** we would --

(Cut to close-up of Tiffany and Stacy sitting on the floor, watching Quinn off screen -- Stacy's eager and nervous, Tiffany's about as close to registering emotion as she possibly could be.)

**QUINN:** (_off screen_) **Nothing** but the best for you and the gang, Mr. Reynaldo. (_long Pause_) Uh-huh... uh-huh... uh-huh...

(Tiffany and Stacy glance at each other, cross their fingers. Pan over to show Quinn sitting on her bed, her ear against the cordless phone, looking fairly business-like and calm. Slowly her face brightens.)

**QUINN:** Uh-**huh**? (_gets a big smile._) Uh-**huh**?! (_Pause. then, sounding as though she can barely contain her glee: _) **Yes**. I mean **no** -- we won't let you down. Talk to you soon. Bye. (_clicks off the phone, looks at her underlings with a satisfied smirk._) It is done.

(Cut to wide shot of all three. Tiffany smirks, while Stacy gets that hyperventilating look on her face.)

**STACY:** (_eyes practically popping out_) You got him to sponsor the **Fashion Expo**?! The Fashion Expo's coming to OUR school??!

**QUINN:** Yep. Now settle down St--

**STACY:** Whooo-**hoooo**!!!

(She jumps up and grabs Quinn in a bear hug, practically knocking her backward. Meanwhile Tiffany's looking at her with definite respect.)

**TIFFANY:** (_obsequious_) You're a genius, Quinn.

**QUINN:** (_nonchalant_) Duh. (_peels Stacy off of her._) It was **nothing**, really. You just gotta know how to talk the talk, **butter** 'em up and stuff.

**STACY:** But Sandi tried a **gazillion** times to get the Fashion Expo to come, and it never worked out.

(Quinn smirks -- Stacy has just unwittingly said exactly what she wanted to hear.)

**QUINN:** (_faux humble_) Yes, well **some** people just aren't blessed with that natural capability. We really shouldn't **blame** the poor girl.

**STACY:** Yeah. (_Bt_) I wonder how she's managing as vice-president.

(_Quinn's smirk fades._)

**TIFFANY:** This'll make our school, like, the fashion center of the **whole** district.

**STACY:** Maybe even the county! (_Bt_) You're the best, Quinn.

**QUINN:** (_regaining her former glee_) Aw, you guys. (_Bt_) Well with the Expo coming up in less than two weeks, we'll have to put in a **lot** of work -- (_suddenly interrupted from off screen: _)

**HELEN:** (_calling_) Quinn!

(Quinn freezes, gets a wary look on her face. Tiffany and Stacy don't make a sound, hoping their silence will convince Helen that no one's there and make her stop calling. Nope.)

**HELEN:** (_off screen_) Quinn! Get **down** here, young lady!

**JAKE:** (_off screen_) **Yeah**, young lady, **get** down here!!

**HELEN:** Jake -- I already said that!

**JAKE:** (_meek_) Oh. Yeah, right.

(_Quinn sighs and rolls her eyes._)

**QUINN:** Great. Those people who live with me **want** me for something.

**TIFFANY:** Bummer.

**STACY:** Shhhh, it'll be okay. (_pats Quinn's arm reassuringly._)

**QUINN:** (_groaning_) I'll be right back.

(_She jumps off the bed and heads for the door._)

(_cut to: _)

SCENE 2 (_living room_)

(Shot of Quinn coming down the stairs, looking extremely vexed. At the base, we see Helen and Jake standing there, equally pissed off.)

**QUINN:** (_not cowed by their demeanor_) Whatever this is, could you, like, make it **fast**?? My friends are upstairs.

**HELEN:** **Don't** use that tone of -- (_Quinn sweeps past her and heads toward the couch -- she knows the drill._) um, sit... er...

**JAKE:** (_at the same time_) **Yeah**, young **lady**, don't use that -- (_watches her go._) um... yeah...

(Cut to shot of the couches. Daria is sitting on the center couch, reading a newspaper. She lowers it ever-so-slightly to observe the action. Quinn flops down on the right hand couch and folds her arms.)

**QUINN:** (_to her parents, as they're coming over_) Is this about my date last night?? 'Cause if so, I'm **telling** you that he wasn't, like, **thirty**. He just looks **very** mature for his age, and so he has a **job** an' some stock opt--

**HELEN:** **Quinn**. (sits down to the left of Daria, so she's between her and Quinn. Jake sits down on the other side of Quinn.) We'll discuss **that** later. Right now we're on the subject of your performance at school.

**QUINN:** (_"oh is **that** all?"_) What **about** it??

**JAKE:** Well, sweetie, your mom got a call this afternoon, and --

**HELEN:** **Jake**, I can speak for myself, thank you. (_Bt_) Yes, sweetheart, your math teacher phoned this aftern--

**QUINN:** What, Mr. **Phelps**?! (_melodramatic_) Does that man, like, **follow** me around an' **spy** on me so, like, whenever I'm having a good time, he can, like, come down on me with his **mean**, oppressive **rules** and demands???

**DARIA:** (_deadpan_) You mean make you **learn**?

(_Quinn glares at her._)

**HELEN:** Quinn, he's concerned about your grade in math, and so are we. He said that you're in danger of **failing**, and he's arranged a parent-teacher conference to discuss your options.

**QUINN:** Well great. So is that it? (_starts to get up._)

(_Helen sighs heavily._)

**HELEN:** I wish you would take these things more **seriously**, Quinn.

**QUINN:** (_flopping down again_) Mo-om, things'll turn out fine, I promise. With some cramming on the final exam, I can pull myself up back to a C, no problem.

**DARIA:** Nothing like an unshakable work ethic.

**HELEN:** (_serious. weary_) Quinn, don't you ever give **any** thought to your future?

**QUINN:** (_exasperated_) Of **course** I do! Duh! Like for instance, the Fashion Expo's coming to our school thanks to **yours** truly, an' --

**HELEN:** You **know** that's not what I'm talking about. (_glances over at Jake, who's starting to nod off._) Jake, **back** me up!

**JAKE:** (_coming back to life_) Oh -- erm... sure, hon. (_Bt. to Quinn_) She means **important** stuff, sweetie.

**QUINN:** (_looking wounded_) But the Fashion Expo **is** important. (_Bt_) Maybe **you** don't care about fashion, but think of all those poor, pathetic **loser** girls who can finally find the role models they **need**. If afterward, we've touched **one** life, it'll have been worth it.

**DARIA:** A new case of bulimia is born.

**QUINN:** (_oblivious_) You wanna talk a bunch of **silly** numbers? Then let me tell you since **I** became Fashion Club president, fashion faux pas have dropped **twenty** percent to an all-time low, wearers of capri pants have **doubled**, pore cleansing purchases have **tripled**, and if I had to **count** all the people who --

**HELEN:** (_curt_) Quinn, **enough**. (_Bt_) I was talking about the **distant** future.

**QUINN:** Huh?

**DARIA:** The time when your hair can only get its bouncy cuteness out of a bottle.

**QUINN:** (_horrified expression_) **Hgh**! I don't wanna think **that** far ahead!

**HELEN:** (_weary_) Exactly what I thought you'd say. (_Bt_) You know, Quinn, I've always loved knowing that you lead a vibrant, **active** lifestyle -- but there **comes** a time when you have to reassess your priorities . Look at the **bigger** picture. I was hoping it would happen when we fixed your vision, but... I guess I was mistaken.

(_Quinn frowns, looking sort of hurt._)

**HELEN:** But **don't** think you're getting away with anything. (_sighs_) Ugh, tomorrow I'll have to get my secretary to come down to your school and --

**JAKE:** (_chuckling a little_) Y' know it's funny: I'd been planning to take the afternoon **off** tomorrow...

**HELEN:** (_oblivious_) -- I'd **hate** to lose her as back-up during a meeting with the partners, but family crises **always** come --

**JAKE:** (_sort of mumbling_) So I mean really... it'd be no trouble at all for me... to...

**HELEN:** Let this be a **lesson** to you, Quinn, the next --

**DARIA:** Uh, **Mom**. (_nods toward Jake._)

**HELEN:** What?? (_Pause_) Jake? Is there something you wanted to say?

(_Beat_)

**JAKE:** I could, um, see Quinn's math teacher tomorrow.

(_Beat_)

**HELEN:** (_discouraging tone_) Now, Jake, are you sure you know what you're getting into?

(Jake gets a slightly repentant look on his face, which both Daria and Quinn notice.)

**DARIA:** Mom, perhaps you might recall what you and Dad talked about.

**HELEN:** Talked about??

**QUINN:** (_crafty expression_) Yeah, Mom, let **Dad** go.

**JAKE:** (_pleading expression_) Yeah, honey. Remember what you said -- that I could have more responsibility with the girls?? [*] see "None in the Family, Part Two"

(_Pause_)

**HELEN:** (_looking uncomfortable_) Oh. Right. I did say that, didn't I? (_Bt_) Well okay, Jakey, you can go in Marianne's place. You **do** know the way, right??

**JAKE:** **Know** the way?? (_does an enthusiastic fist pump._) What kind of idiot d' you think I am?? I've been to our kids' school before!

(_fade-out. fade-in to: _)

SCENE 3 (_the next afternoon_)

(Shot of the outside of a high school. The sign outside reads "Cumberland High." We see Jake's car drive up to it. Cut to close-up of Jake, frowning and looking at the sign.)

**JAKE:** Hmm, something's not quite right...

(_fade-out. fade-in to: _)

SCENE 4 (_Phelps's classroom, Lawndale High, a short time later_)

(Shot of Phelps seated at his desk with hands folded, a tray of tea and coffee goods beside him. As stated in "Andrea Speaks!" and "Cheered Down," he's a balding, fifty-something year old with an air of formality. On the whole, he looks very well-kept [even Quinn would find little fault with his grooming habits], and at present is wearing a Mr. Rogers-style cardigan over a vest, a starched white shirt, and a tie. His expression is pretty deadpan, but we can see impatience creeping up along the edges.)

(Cut to shot of the outside of Lawndale High. We see the Lexus barrel up to the front and screech to a halt. The driver's side door flies open -- Jake jumps out and hastens toward the entrance.)

(Cut to shot of Phelps. He eyes his watch, then sighs and starts to stand up. Suddenly, from off screen: )

**JAKE:** Wha-whoa wait! No need to leave, my good man, sit down.

(Cut to wider shot. Jake rushes up to Phelps and shakes his hand, herky-jerky style.)

**JAKE:** The name's Jake Morgendorffer -- Quinn Morgendorffer's father. Now what d' you say we get down to **business**?

(He moves to sit down on top of a desk, but unfortunately is too heavy. The desk tips forward, sending Jake to the ground. Phelps watches this display with a raised brow.)

**PHELPS:** (_dry_) I'm Alfred Phelps. And I'd all but given up on you.

(Chuckling sheepishly, Jake picks himself up and squeezes himself into the desk chair with some difficulty.)

**JAKE:** Eh-heh, **no**, I just got caught up in... um... (_looks around the room, trying to change the subject._) Gee, this is **sure** a nice room you've got here.

**PHELPS:** It's like all the others. (_Bt_) You don't **come** here very often, do you?

**JAKE:** I do so! (_Phelps gives him a penetrating look, which causes him to crumble._) Well I... once.

(_Phelps sighs._)

**PHELPS:** You're like **so** many other parents, Mr. Morgendorffer. Too **consumed** by the grind of everyday life to give your children the time and energy they deserve.

**JAKE:** Oh no, you've got me all wrong! I wouldn't've come here if I wasn't **one** hundred percent devoted to my kid. (_pounds the desk for emphasis._) I'm ready to hear what you've got to say. (_looks off to the side, notices the tray on Phelps's desk._) Ooh -- cookies!

**PHELPS:** (_sighing_) Yes, help yourself. (Jake wiggles out of the desk and grabs a bunch, then sits back down, stuffing them one by one into his mouth.) They're called "English tea biscuits," actually. I take my tea in here instead of the lounge because I can't **tolerate** those other instructors -- with their **bulging** eyes, their whining, their **man**-hating... (_shudders a little._) But now, Mr. Morgendorffer, let's begin disc-- Mr. Morgendorffer?

(We see Jake stuffing the last of the biscuits into his mouth and licking the crumbs off of his fingers, oblivious.)

**PHELPS:** Mr. **Morgendorffer**! (_slaps his desk, scowls. Jake is startled back into alertness._) This is **serious**. Quinn's welfare is at stake. (_Bt_) You **do** realize that she's in danger of **failing**??

**JAKE:** (_cowering a little_) Um... as much as in her other classes?

(_Beat_)

**PHELPS:** (_quiet exasperation_) I wouldn't know. But what makes her slide in **my** class disturbing is that she's naturally gifted in the subject matter.

**JAKE:** She **is**? (_Bt. disbelief_) You're talking about **Quinn**, right?

**PHELPS:** (_without bothering to acknowledge the question_) She has a **talent** for working with numbers. Coordinating them, matching them, distributing them so that they form the **right** combinations. It's a talent not too many people have.

(_Beat_)

**JAKE:** This **is** Quinn, you're talking about?? I mean, not some **other** girl who just **looks** like Quinn? Not Dar--

**PHELPS:** Yes, Quinn. **Quinn**, Mr. Morgendorffer. She could **excel** in math if she ever put her mind to it, and from there, who knows where she could go?? All she needs is the proper **encouragement**. (_pointed look at Jake as he says this._)

**JAKE:** (_still stunned_) Wow, Quinn...

**PHELPS:** A few months ago, I got my hopes up when, without explanation, she started attending class **regularly**. It was as if, for the first time, she actually **wanted** to be taught. She was focusing, absorbing, showing an amazing turn-around, and... needless to say, her plunge has upset me greatly.

**JAKE:** Yeah. Um, I could see how it would.

**PHELPS:** (_raising a brow_) But what's been damaged can be mended. Meaning, your daughter **could** pull herself up to a respectable grade by the end of this term.

**JAKE:** (_a little cowed by Phelps's intensity_) Well, um, yeah. Sure, why not? I mean, if she's so smart, like you say...

**PHELPS:** And perhaps **more**.

**JAKE:** More?

(_Beat_)

**PHELPS:** At the end of the term, we math instructors hold our bi-annual entrance examination for Higher Algebra and Trigonometry. It's a class normally taught to juniors... but I think Quinn could make it in. Don't you?

**JAKE:** (_chuckling_) But Quinn's only a sopho-- (_gets it._) **ohhh**.

(_Beat_)

**PHELPS:** So I offer this to you as a challenge, Mr. Morgendorffer. Do your part as a parent. Sit with Quinn every night for at least an hour. And make **sure** she attends class each day. I'll do the rest.

(Jake nods frantically. Phelps leans closer to him, looks him directly in the eye.)

**PHELPS:** (_slowly_) If we work together, we can make Quinn realize her **full** potential.

**JAKE:** (_still nodding frantically_) Right. Of course...

**PHELPS:** Oh, and one last thing: I'd prefer to keep my **future** plans for Quinn between us, if that's all right. Just focus on helping her in the here-and-now.

**JAKE:** Oh I will. I will...

(_cut to: _)

SCENE 5 (_Morgendorffer house, evening_)

(_Shot of the outside._)

**JAKE:** (_off screen voice-over_) Quinn's gonna be a GENIUS!!!

(Cut to shot of the four Morgendorffers sitting at dinner. Jake is very animated, while Daria watches him impassively, and Helen with pleasure and surprise -- mostly surprise. Quinn looks pale and stunned.)

**JAKE:** He said all I gotta do is sit with her every night and then **whammo** -- she could go anywhere! Well I'm up for the challenge! I've been known to push around the old **slide rule** in my day.

**QUINN:** A **what**??

**DARIA:** (_deadpan_) I think the modern slang term for it is "calculator," Dad.

**JAKE:** Oh. Right. (_chuckles._)

(_Beat_)

**HELEN:** Well, Jakey, it sounds like you got a lot out of your talk with Mr. Phelps. But I'm sure he meant for **both** of us to--

**QUINN:** (_crafty_) Yeah, um, Dad, are you **sure** you understood what Mr. Phelps was saying?? 'Cause he can, like, use a lot of really **big**, confusing words.

**JAKE:** (_looking confused_) Well he... seemed pretty clear to me.

**HELEN:** (_glaring sideways at Quinn_) Jake, can't you see she's just trying to **trip** you up?? (_Bt. to Quinn_) You **know**, sweetie, this could be your wake-up call. Why not **use** this opportunity -- (_Quinn gets a sour look on her face._) -- to focus on the **rest** of your studies?

**QUINN:** (_frustrated_) But **dammit**, I don't have **time** to focus on school! I've got really important plans I have to deal with!

(_Pause. She gets a cold look from Helen._)

**HELEN:** Well **make** time.

**JAKE:** Yeah, sweetie -- I'll figure out a way to make learning really **fun**!

**QUINN:** Ughhh...

**DARIA:** Yes, Quinn: get in touch with your inner brain. (_smirks wickedly._)

**QUINN:** Ughhhhhhhh!!! (_stands up abruptly._) That's **it**! I can't take this anymore. I'm gonna go upstairs to... be... sick, now. (_stumbles away._)

(The other members of her family watch her go. Then Jake turns to Helen and Daria and waves a hand nonchalantly.)

**JAKE:** Aw, she's just a little nervous. But wait'll she sees all the really **neat** stuff I'm gonna do for her. I'll get started now! (_jumps up, dashes away._)

(_Pause. Daria watches him go, then cocks an eyelid at Helen._)

**DARIA:** Well, well: I'm impressed.

**HELEN:** So am I. I've never **seen** your father so energized.

**DARIA:** Yeah -- he's awake after dinner. (_Bt_) But actually, I was referring to your uncommon show of restraint. You didn't try **too** hard to take the reins from him.

**HELEN:** Oh **come** on, Daria, what makes you think I'd **do** something like that? (_gets a pointed look from Daria. conceding_) Well **look**, he said he wanted the chance to prove his parenting skills, and I'm willing to have faith in him.

**DARIA:** (_subtly impressed_) Hmm, then maybe your separation **wasn't** a total waste.

**HELEN:** And besides, if he messes up, I'll be **right** nearby to pick up the pieces...

(_fade-out. fade-in to: _)

SCENE 6 (_Quinn's room, late evening_)

(_Shot of her door as seen from the outside._)

**QUINN:** (_off screen voice-over_) My life is **over**!!!

(Cut to an overhead shot of Quinn. She's sprawled across the bed in a crucifixion pose, the cordless phone against her ear.)

**QUINN:** (_melodramatic_) My parents are, like, **chaining** me to the stupid kitchen table every night just 'cause I'm **failing** math!

(Split the screen to form three triangles, containing Quinn, Tiffany, and Stacy. Quinn's on tele-conference call.)

**TIFFANY:** Bummer.

**STACY:** But weren't you doing well at one --?

**QUINN:** They're gonna make me **slave** away studying for the next dumb test, when I should be working on the Fashion Expo!

**STACY:** Dumb Mr. Phelps. He gives too many tests.

**TIFFANY:** Yeah. He's **so** weird.

**STACY:** I wish he'd never transferred here from that stupid prep school.

**TIFFANY:** He could **really** use some new outfits.

**STACY:** **Yeah**, like maybe he could get one of those cute little--

**QUINN:** **Guys**! (_Bt_) Ugh, look, what that means is I'm gonna have to put more **responsibility** on you. Ordering the food, the flowers, stuff like that.

**STACY:** On us?? (_looks a little intimidated._)

**QUINN:** Think you can handle it?

**TIFFANY:** Suuuuure. (_gets a delighted smirk._)

**QUINN:** Great.

**STACY:** But what'll **you** be able to do??

**QUINN:** Hey, don't worry -- I'll be there to wine and dine Mr. Reynaldo and the rest of the Defense of Cute Animals Society. (_Bt. chuckles_) I mean, I shouldn't have **too** much trouble ditching my dad. He's not exactly **all** there, if you know what I mean. (_chuckles again._)

(_Pause_)

**STACY:** Your dad?? I thought he was your uncle.

(_Pause_)

**QUINN:** Oh. Well... he likes it when I call him "Dad." Makes him feel important.

**STACY:** Oh.

(_Beat_)

**TIFFANY:** But your mom's your **mom**, right??

**QUINN:** Oh. **Yeah**.

(_Pause. Quinn chuckles nervously._)

(_fade-out. fade-in to: _)

SCENE 7 (_kitchen, a short time later_)

(Shot of the kitchen table. It's covered with scattered papers, a notebook, an Algebra/Geometry text book, pencils, calculator -- the whole shebang. We now see Quinn walk toward the table uneasily , then collapse into a chair. She leans one elbow on the table and places her head in hand. Then, with her other hand, she picks up a pencil and stares at it suspiciously, as if it's an alien object. Finally Quinn sets it down and lets it roll across the table. Just then, we see Daria come up to her.)

**QUINN:** (_wary_) **Don't** say it.

**DARIA:** (_smirking_) That you're well-stocked for your journey to Nerdville?

**QUINN:** **Yes**.

**DARIA:** Well don't worry -- I don't have to. 'Cause congratulations: you've already crossed over.

(Quinn glares at her resentfully, then looks at the math materials, and wilts.)

**END OF ACT ONE**

[Shot of Jake falling off the desk in Mr. Phelps's classroom.]

You are now entering commercial **HEAVEN**. Laaaaaaaaaaaaa... We're so very happy to have you with us. Just sit back and let yourself be soothed by some of the grooviest commercials put on television.

  * "Next Wednesday, on the Ten Spot: Helen's in Amanda Lane's sculpture class? Daria's **proactive**?? Has the world gone mad??? Find out next week on an all-new 'Daria.'"

[To John Berry: this is what you do when you aren't able to follow up a preview clip with an actual episode. You just blame the MTV programmers for having stupidity that knows no bounds, and claim that they pre-empted your fic with "One Hundred Ways for Teenagers to Have Sex." **But**, due to a massive letter writing campaign by devoted fans of "Daria," the programmers decided to air your fic after all -- but they aired the **wrong** fic by mistake! D'OH!!! Those stupid clowns... off with their heads.]

  * Those anti-smoking commercials. **Some** of them -- not the super-preachy ones that show empty playgrounds or girls getting turned off by that cute boy who puffs -- are extremely clever. Especially the ones that show clips from the tobacco industry's appearance before Congress. They **always** make me think twice about picking up the habit... or they would, if not for the fact that I've never thought **once** about it... ;-)

* Those commercials that advertise the greatest hits from a certain decade. Don't know how, but somehow they've always made me come **this** close to rushing for the phone and ordering. They play the **best** music and show the best clips from certain bands. So far, I've been able to resist impulse buying, but some day, the Demon Music lover may prove too strong for me...

You are now leaving commercial **HEAVEN**. Y'all come back soon now, ya hear?

## 

OF ABSOLUTE VALUE

* * *

**ACT TWO**

SCENE 1 (_Morgendorffer house, that same time_)

(Shot of the outside. Cut to shot of Helen sitting at the edge of the bed in her and Jake's room, sorting through papers in her opened briefcase. Just then Jake rushes in, carrying a load of wacky knick-knacks and wearing a sweatshirt. He thrusts a couple of objects toward Helen.)

**JAKE:** Hey honey, what d' you think??

**HELEN:** (_looking up from her stuff_) Jake, what **are** those??

**JAKE:** Pencil cozies! (_Bt_) Aren't they **cute** little guys?? You attach 'em to the eraser, and suddenly your pencil becomes really **neat**!

**HELEN:** (_amused_) And just **what's** the point of having them?

**JAKE:** It's all part of making the learning experience fun for Quinn! She **likes** cute stuff. (_Bt_) And take a look at **this**! (_spreads his arms out to reveal the message on his sweatshirt._)

**HELEN:** (_reading_) "What are you looking at... **geek**?"

**JAKE:** Cool, huh??

**HELEN:** I guess. (_Bt_) But Jake, do you really think this will help Quinn get **serious** about studying??

**JAKE:** I don't know, Helen, but what can it hurt?? Nothing **else** has worked so far.

**HELEN:** Hmm, you have a point. (_Bt. shakes her head._) Well I must say, Jake: if I'd known you were going to be **this** excited about helping one of our girls, I'd've sent you to a parent-teacher conference **months** ago.

**JAKE:** It was that Mr. Phelps, Quinn's math teacher. He **really** got me thinking.

**HELEN:** (_cocking a brow_) Yes, that man **can** be awfully persuasive. (_grumble. to herself_) And **irritating** as hell...

**JAKE:** (_not hearing her_) It was what he said about Quinn being a natural math brain. Did **you** know she was gifted in math??

(_Helen sighs._)

**HELEN:** Well, I knew she was **smart** -- more than she and certain **other** people in this house would care to admit.

**JAKE:** Well I **didn't** know. I never even gave it a thought. (_Bt. gets a bleak expression on his face._) Poor little Quinn. Imagine her sitting on her math talent, scared to use it 'cause she thinks her daddy doesn't believe in her. Alone, depressed... (_eyes start to bulge with rage._) resenting the **hell** out of me, wishing I would just **drop** dead, wanting to **pick** me up and HURL me where the sun don't --!

**HELEN:** **Jake**. Get a grip.

**JAKE:** (_immediately pacified_) Sorry.

(_Beat_)

**HELEN:** Look, if anything, we're **both** to blame for Quinn's performance at school. And **Quinn** is, too. We'll **all** just have to try extra hard from now on.

**JAKE:** Damn **right** I will. I'm not gonna be an unresponsive father to my little girl. I'm going downstairs **right** now.

**HELEN:** (_chuckling a little_) Okay, Jake.

**JAKE:** Have fun working, honey! (_he leaves._)

(Pause. Helen watches him go, then looks at her briefcase and wilts a little.)

**HELEN:** Right.

(_cut to: _)

SCENE 2 (_kitchen_)

(Shot of Daria and Quinn sitting at the kitchen table. Quinn's gazing at her math book. Daria has scattered a bunch of peanuts on her side of the table, and is now opening them one at a time. After several seconds of cracking sounds, Quinn finally looks at Daria, irritated.)

**QUINN:** **Quit** trying to distract me!

(_Beat_)

**DARIA:** Brace yourself, Quinn: I actually think it's **cool** you're studying.

**QUINN:** Ha -- right! It's just 'cause I look like a dumb **geek**. Well don't think I care about this stuff!

(Pause. Quinn refocuses on her book, while Daria returns to cracking peanut shells. After several more seconds, Quinn looks up again, enraged.)

**QUINN:** **Dammit**, Daria, would you **cut** it out?! I can't concentrate!

**DARIA:** Well if you don't care, then this shouldn't bother you.

**QUINN:** Mo-om!! Daria's **bugging** me!

(_Just then, we see Jake arrive._)

**JAKE:** Hey, girls.

**DARIA:** (_to Quinn_) Now I'm really convinced.

**QUINN:** MO-OOOM!!!

**JAKE:** Um, Quinn, sweetie... (_pats himself._)

**QUINN:** (_as if seeing him for the first time_) Oh. Right. (_Bt_) Dad, make Daria stop teasing me.

**JAKE:** (_to Daria_) Hey, kiddo -- why don't you go watch some TV? (_points toward the living room._)

**DARIA:** (_deadpan_) What a novel idea. I might just do that. (_scoops up the peanuts, leaves._)

**JAKE:** That's the spirit, kiddo. (_Bt_) Wow -- I really **am** getting the hang of this parenting stuff!

(No response from Quinn. She's too busy looking at her math book with an irritated expression. Jake sits down next to her, lays all of his junk on the table.)

**JAKE:** Hey **look**, sweetie! (_holds out the pencil cozies._)

(_Quinn looks up, sees the cozies, gets a horrified expression on her face._)

**QUINN:** Eww!! What **are** those?!

**JAKE:** (_wilting a little_) Oh, um, you don't like them?

**QUINN:** No **way**! They're creepy!

**JAKE:** Oh. (_hides the cozies in one of his pockets._)

(Cut to shot of Daria sitting down on the center couch and reaching for the TV remote. Having overheard this exchange, she cocks a droll eyelid. Resume shot of Quinn and Jake. Quinn's looking at the rest of Jake's stuff.)

**QUINN:** And what is with the **rest** of this stuff?? (_rolls her eyes, chuckles with amusement and some condescension._) God, Dad: I'm, like, not in second **grade** anymore.

(_Jake clears the rest of his stuff off the table with one sweep of his arm._)

**JAKE:** (_contrite_) Oh, um, yeah. I was just... (_slumps forward._)

**QUINN:** Well look, I've got the hang of this section. So why don't you, um... go eat something or take a nap or whatever?

(_Jake shrugs with muted enthusiasm._)

**JAKE:** Hell, why not? (gets up and leaves the table, dragging his stuff with him, a few falling on the floor in the process.)

(Quinn returns to frowning at her math book. Cut to shot of Jake in the kitchen. He dumps his junk on the counter and picks up an apple out of the fruit basket. Looks at it as though it holds the key to the universe.)

**JAKE:** (_mumbling to it_) Well she **seems** to be doing okay... so there's not much for **me** to do... (polishes the apple off on his shirt, looks about ready to take a bite, when a thought suddenly occurs to him.) **Wait**. This is a **trap**, isn't it?? One of those ones that the **good** parents know how to get out of, right?? Mmmm, maybe I oughta talk to Helen. (_glances toward the stairs uneasily, then shakes his head._) No, no, no -- I can handle this **myself**.

**QUINN:** (_off screen_) Daddy!

(_Cut to shot of Quinn at the table, wearing a peevish, bewildered expression._)

**QUINN:** Who're you **talking** to??

(_Cut to shot of Jake. He chuckles sheepishly, glances at the apple._)

**JAKE:** Oh... no one, sweetheart. (_Pause. in a softer voice._) Think, Jake, m' man: how're you gonna help her out if she says she doesn't need it?? (_frowns, rubs the apple meditatively. then gets a revelation._) Aha! I got it! (_to the apple_) Oh you **beautiful** thing. (_takes a big bite._)

(_Meanwhile, cut to shot of Daria sitting on the couch, watching TV._)

**SSW ANNOUNCER:** Would you want Jennifer Love-Hewitt starring in **your** movie?? **These** people did! Hear their horrific true-life tale on the **neeeext** "Sick Sad World"!

(Daria cringes. We then hear the sound of pounding down the stairs and see Helen sweep past Daria in the direction of the kitchen.)

**HELEN:** Quinn, sweetie!

(Cut to shot of the kitchen. Quinn looks at her inquisitively as she approaches.)

**HELEN:** (_out of breath_) I heard you... calling. Is there a problem?

**QUINN:** (_nonchalant_) No problem. Everything's fine, now.

**HELEN:** Oh.

(_Jake comes up to them, hypercharged._)

**JAKE:** (_to Helen_) Yeah, honey! I've decided I'm gonna **check** Quinn's work when she's through. That's something a **responsible** parent would do, right??

(_Beat_)

**HELEN:** Um, right.

**JAKE:** You never know -- Quinn might just **think** she's doing the problems right, but is really making mistakes all along! (_looks at Quinn, gives her an exaggerated, jokey wink._)

(_Quinn rolls her eyes._)

**QUINN:** (_hushed_) **Whatever**. (_returns to her work._)

(_Pause. Helen looks at them both, gets an awkward expression._)

**HELEN:** Well, um, you two seem to be doing fine. So... I'll, um, leave you alone. (_stands there a few seconds longer, then leaves._)

(Cut to shot of Daria on the couch, still watching TV. Helen walks over sort of hesitantly, then sits down beside her.)

**HELEN:** (_cheery_) Hi, sweetie. Whatcha watching?

**DARIA:** (_deadpan_) Does the psychedelic eyeball not speak for itself?

(_Beat_)

**HELEN:** Hmm-hmm. Right. (_Pause. looks at the screen, face brightens._) Jennifer Love-Hewitt! Ooh, I **like** her. She's such a sweet --

(_Daria picks up the remote and turns off the TV._)

**HELEN:** (_face falling a tad_) Oh.

(Meanwhile, cut to shot of Jake and Quinn at the kitchen table. Quinn's scribbling away at a problem, frowning with concentration, while Jake munches away on his apple. Quinn glances at him.)

**QUINN:** Dad, would you, like, not **crunch** so loud?? Eating sounds are so **gross**!

**JAKE:** Forry. (_swallows._)

(_Resume shot of Helen and Daria._)

**DARIA:** I was about to go upstairs, anyway.

**HELEN:** Well what's your hurry? (_musters a friendly, crooning tone._) Since we're both sitting here, why don't we have a little briefing on each other's day?

(_Beat_)

**DARIA:** Hmm, sitting upstairs certainly can't compare to **that** thrill. (_Bt_) Okay, shoot.

(_Beat_)

**HELEN:** Um... all right. (_Bt_) How's school?

**DARIA:** Fine.

**HELEN:** And Jane?

(_Daria sighs._)

**DARIA:** Between her going out with Tom and painting murals for school, I haven't seen too much of Jane lately.

**HELEN:** Oh.

(_Pause_)

**DARIA:** And your day?

**HELEN:** Oh -- great! Busy, busy... busy. You know me.

**DARIA:** Yep.

(Pause. Helen and Daria glance at each other, Helen awkwardly, Daria impassively.)

**DARIA:** (_thought voice-over_) Five... four... three... two...

**HELEN:** Oh! Was that my **cell** phone I heard ringing upstairs?? I'd better go answer it.

(She jumps off the couch, quickly leaves. Daria waits until she's disappeared upstairs before turning the TV back on.)

(Meanwhile, cut to shot of Quinn and Jake. Jake pounds the table enthusiastically, startling Quinn.)

**JAKE:** Ready to get your work checked now??

**QUINN:** (_rolling her eyes, groaning_) **Fine**. Knock yourself out. (_thrusts her paper towards Jake._)

(She looks impatiently at her watch as Jake checks her calculations, then looks at the corresponding answers in the back of her math book. His face brightens.)

**JAKE:** Gosh, sweetie, you got these all right!

**QUINN:** (_blasŽ_) Cool.

**JAKE:** My little Einstein! (_punches her lightly on the cheek._)

**QUINN:** (_cringing slightly_) **Ugh**. Daddy, Einstein had, like, **really** bad hair.

(_Beat_)

**JAKE:** Oh. Yeah, right. (_Bt. chuckles a little._) Well I don't get it, honey: how can you be so good at this stuff and **hate** it so much??

(_Pause_)

**QUINN:** (_hesitant_) I don't **hate** math. (_Pause_) It just... frustrates me.

**JAKE:** It does?? That's a shame. Boy, do **I** know how that is. (_eyes start bulging._) You like something until it's **drilled** into you by a heartless old **bastard** for whom "can't" isn't a word, until everything you hold **dear** --!

**QUINN:** Daddy!

**JAKE:** (_calming down_) Oh...hmm. (_waves a hand to say "Continue."_)

(_Beat_)

**QUINN:** It's just... (_groans with resignation_) **all** these problems require the **right** combinations, and it's all on **you** to figure out what they are.

**JAKE:** Uh-huh. (_looks surprisingly like he understands._)

**QUINN:** I mean **sure**, I'm up for the challenge -- mixing and matching is, like, my **calling** in life. But seeing each new problem with bad combinations that I have to fix just... upsets me. I mean those math people should really **know** better!

**JAKE:** Wow, I'd never thought of it like that. (glances at the math book, finds a really complicated equation with a lot of x's and y's all over the place.) Like with this one?

(_Quinn looks at it. Her face takes on an expression of disgust._)

**QUINN:** Ugh -- **yes**! Those two just **don't** belong together!! (_Bt_) I gotta --

(She seizes a pencil and a new piece of paper, then proceeds to work feverishly on the problem. Meanwhile Jake looks on, a bit stunned by her intensity. After several seconds, Quinn drops her pencil and, with a relieved sigh, pushes the paper toward Jake. He looks at it, then at the answer.)

**JAKE:** Quinn -- you got it right!

(_Quinn groans and tosses her hands in the air._)

**QUINN:** Well I should **hope** so!

(_fade-out. fade-in to: _)

SCENE 3 (_Lawndale High, several days later_)

(Shot of the outside. Cut to shot of Quinn, Tiffany, and Stacy seated on the grass, going over details of the Fashion Expo.)

STACY: ... And I got cute little yellow flowers for each of the displays. And cute-sounding music to play over the speaker system. So when are you gonna see the Defense of Cute Animals Society, Quinn?

(_Quinn bows her head slightly._)

**QUINN:** I'm not sure. I, um, haven't **talked** to 'em yet.

(_Stacy and Tiffany glance at each other, concerned._)

**STACY:** But didn't you --?

**QUINN:** (_exasperated_) I **thought** I could take care of the preparations **easy**, but night after night my **dad** -- um, I mean, the man I **call** dad -- watches me like some kind of freaking **hawk** 'til I've finished my dumb **math** problems.

**TIFFANY:** Ewww...

**STACY:** That's not fair, Quinn -- he should **know** what's more important.

**QUINN:** No kidding! I can't do **anything** 'cause he makes me spend, like, **hours** working on this stuff. I can't even date! (_Bt_) Well, **easily**, I mean.

**TIFFANY & STACY:** Awww...

**QUINN:** (_shaking her head, a note of wonder in her voice_) Geez, y' know I never would've thought my dad had it **in** him...

(Tiffany and Stacy shake their heads with sympathy. Just then, we see a girl walk up to Quinn, wearing a beseeching expression.)

**GIRL:** Quinn? Which color eyeliner do you think is best: navy or chocolate brown?

(_Quinn pauses momentarily to think._)

**QUINN:** (_counseling tone_) Well, **I** personally would go with navy 'cause it gives you, like, that "I'm hot but don't touch me" look, whereas chocolate brown kinda says "Come and **get** me." Unless of course you **want** that kind of look in which case **go** for it, I mean that's just **me** talking. You don't have to go with what **I** say, even though I'm usually right about these kinds of things.

**GIRL:** (_shaking her head rapidly_) Oh **no**, no -- you're Fashion Club president. You **always** know what's right. Thank you. Thank you **so** much!

(She runs off, overcome with emotion, as if she's just spoken with the Godfather. Quinn turns to Tiffany and Stacy.)

**QUINN:** (_ego gratified_) Now where were we?

**TIFFANY:** Fashion Expo.

**QUINN:** **Right**.

**STACY:** Y' know, if you're too busy, Quinn, Brooke said she'd help out -- if you'd make her a member.

**QUINN:** (_frowning_) Hmmm... I dunno. It's already sorta crowded with **three**.

**TIFFANY:** Or Sandi could --

**QUINN:** Sandi?? What **about** her?? (_suddenly irritated_) Why should **she** help out??

(Pause. Stacy and Tiffany glance at each other, a little startled by Quinn's reaction.)

**TIFFANY:** (_reverting to yes-man role_) Oh she **shouldn't**. You're, like, **way** capable, Quinn.

**QUINN:** **'Course** I am.

(Beat. Stacy looks at Tiffany, a little confused by her turnaround, then at Quinn.)

**STACY:** (_slowly_) Well we just thought... since Sandi knows fashion, too...

**QUINN:** (_demanding tone_) So you, like, think **she** could do a better job than me??

**STACY:** (_slightly nervous_) Oh well no... but she could... since you're busy...

**QUINN:** (_curt_) Look, we don't **need** anything from Sandi. Sandi **quit** the club, so **why** should we involve her in any of our plans?? I can entertain the Cute Animals Society on my own and I **will**.

**STACY:** Okay.

(Just then, we see Brittany bound up to them, holding a bottle of pore cleanser and twirling a lock of hair.)

**BRITTANY:** (_spacy cheerful_) Quinn, I got Jean-Pierre's pore cleansing stuff just like you suggested!

**QUINN:** (_still irritated_) **Not** Jean-Pierre. **Chateau Pierre-Fran **


End file.
